


Pen and Paper

by LogicalPie



Category: Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:17:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicalPie/pseuds/LogicalPie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alec is an author, who prefers most of the time to sit indoors and write - Except when he has a writers block. When he meets a certain colourful man at the bar where he works, it's clear that inspiration isn't far away. Malec.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Alec must have been sitting at his desk for hours, pen touching paper but never daring to move. Writer’s block was a strange thing – One day ideas would flow from your mind and onto paper so quickly that it’s impossible to stop writing until they’re all gone, which, of course, was always about three in the morning. Then the next day, the pen which had previously been so energetic and seemed to have a life of its own seemed to only want to sleep. Alec guessed he would describe writers block as some sort of weird, metaphorical hangover. With a frustrated groan, Alec threw the pen across the room and stood up, starting to pace.

Alexander Lightwood was by no means a famous author, but he wasn’t unknown. He was somewhere in between JK Rowling and Caleb Carr. Okay, probably a lot closer to Caleb Carr. But, he earned a living on it, along with his job at the club.

He wrote short stories, as he hadn’t yet been successful in getting a novel published. He’d tried twice, but he wasn’t great at keeping things going for that long. He preferred to make his stories short and snappy. He had never written anything non-fiction, or anything lacking magic – His stories usually revolved around a romance in the world of mages and wizards. He didn’t have a particular intended audience either – Some stories were for children, some for adults, some aimed at girls, some at boys. He was signed up with a couple of magazines that he wrote short stories for, and he usually wrote a few stories a month. It barely paid for the bills and essentials, but it did, and he loved his job – Except the writer’s block.

As he paced, he realised that today was just not the day, and that the more he thought the less likely he was to come up with something. He wasn’t getting anywhere with anything.

He showered. He ate. He shrugged on his coat and left through the front door of his small flat, remembering to lock up afterwards. New York was a nice place to live for a writer – inspiration around every corner, whether it was in the form of people, a certain scene, even a funny shaped crack in the pavement could inspire Alec on a good day.

But Alec wasn’t in the mood to seek out inspiration today, so instead he hopped onto the subway and let it whisk him away to work.

The Lightwood was a reasonably successful club – of course it was, it had been set up by his younger siblings. They knew how to draw people in, Jace with his undoubtable charm and Isabell with her pure beauty.  His siblings had made running the club their full time job when it started getting successful. They’d been kind enough to offer Alec a small job as a bartender, whilst, as they put it, he was ‘climbing the ladder to fame’.

The club wasn’t exactly classy, but it wasn’t just a ‘get drunk and sweaty’ club either. The main theme, like most clubs, was neon signs and flashing lights, but that wasn’t all there was to it. Alec’s favourite feature was the dance floor, even though he’d never used it. It was black marble, with a clear covering with blue glitter covering that sparkled when the lights hit it. He’d thought it would be tacky when then were planning it, but it actually looked stunning. Alec guessed the rest of the details took on a blue theme too – The plush seats, the walls, most of the neon lights had a bit of blue in them too.

He checked his watch. Six fifteen. The bar opened in quarter of an hour. He took his headphones off as he opened the metal backdoor, silencing the blaring punk-pop.

“Alec!” He heard Isabell yell from out at the front. He smiled and hopped through the storage, taking his coat and scarf off once he got behind the bar.

“Hey, Iz.” Alec answered, his deep voice ringing through the unusually silent room.

“So, status update- I think I finally found you a boyfriend. He’s tall and wears dull clothes like you and _oh god his eyes_ and-“

“And I’m really not interested. I already told you, I have a boyfriend – His name is work, and He has my undivided attention for most hours of the day.” Alec said, cutting her off. Isabell rolled her eyes, then Jace walked in with a pack of beer, so they quickly silenced their chatter related to Alec’s sexuality.

“Speaking of which, how’s the story coming along? You’re early... Are you procrastinating again? You shouldn’t be avoiding your beloved work. It’ll think you don’t like it anymore.” She asked in an accusatory tone, a smirk on her cherry red lips. “But seriously, how is it?” She asked, worry creasing her smooth forehead suddenly.

“No, no procrastination this time,” He said with a grin, “I have a writer’s block. But, it’s fine – It’s not due into the publishers for another two weeks. A little writer’s block is nothing to worry about...” _He hoped._

***

It was a relatively busy night; the dance floor was packed with bodies and the tables full of people drinking. Isabell always gave Alec an hour’s break, to practice writing the way he liked too. It was by doing this that he got most of his inspiration. Others may have found his way of practice creepy, but Alec didn’t think so. Not _that_ creepy anyway. He would watch people around the club, how they looked, how they moved, how they spoke if he could hear them. Then, he’d put it all down in words, making it as descriptive as possible. If they were interesting, he’d give them a short back story. If they were really interesting, they’d be used in his short stories.

He looked around the club, his eyes laid upon face after face. His eyes laid upon the usual characters, the blond ladies in red dresses sipping wine on a plush seat. The teenagers, who probably all had fake ID. The ones who’d clearly just had a very, very bad day at work and wanted to let their hair down by getting as drunk as they could without passing out. The perverted men who sat in the corner, eying up the ladies but never finding the courage to make use of that one chat up line they’d learned before they came out. He’d seen it all before. There was nobody here that caught his interest, and he was just about to put his pen and notebook away and go back to work when the most colourful looking man he’d ever seen walked in through the door. His hair was full of highlights, colour after colour standing vividly against pitch black. His skin was a light caramel colour, his eyes a bright, catlike green. And, he was wearing.... Alec wasn’t quite sure what he was wearing, but it made Alec’s dark green sweater and black jeans look like granddad clothes.

He sat back down at the bar and opened up his notebook to the first free page he found, keeping the stranger visible in the corner of his eyes. His pen touched the paper, and Alec got lost in his own little world...

                       _‘He has eyes like a cat on the prowl, like a proud wildcat upon his perch, emerald green and almost glowing. His hair is a palette of colours against a pitch black canvas. His skin looks soft to touch, a sweet liquid caramel. He’s tall, and he walks with the grace of a trained dancer – He has the muscle tone of one, too. He looks like a happy character, and...’_

And Alec wasn’t sure how long the stranger had been staring back at him.

Alec’s heart stopped. He looked back at the stranger with wide eyes. The stranger looked back at him, his catlike eyes also wide. When he finally ripped his gaze away he was sure he was blushing a deep crimson. This had never happened before; he’d never been caught staring at someone he’d been writing about. He tried to act casually as he looked over at Izzy, who was currently chatting to some cute guy over the bar. Probably talking about whether she could pay him to go out with Alec, since he clearly wasn’t her type. Anyway, it was clear she wasn’t coming to save him any time soon.

When he looked back out towards the club, there was the stranger, sitting right opposite him on the other side of the bar, reading his notebook which had of course been left open at the page of a certain stranger’s description. Alec gasped and leaped up, snatching his notebook back quickly. His face regained its rosy colour as he started to stutter out an apology, trying to explain himself in a flurry of words and syllables that mostly got lost in the blaring music of the club. His strings of apologies were only silenced when the stranger let out a laugh which would be loud enough to wake the teenage boys of the club at six in the morning tomorrow, when they all had raging hangovers.

“If you thought I was that pretty, you could have just bought me a drink you know.” He said, and Alec struggled to pick an adjective for that voice. Smooth, fruity? No. Intoxicating.

“S-Sorry...” Alec mumbled, scrambling in the air to find some sort of words he could string into a sentence that made him look vaguely normal. He tried to pretend he was busy so that the other would leave him alone and he could forget this whole embarrassing incident. He managed to do so, with the stranger still staring at him, for all of two seconds before the man spoke up again.

“Come on. It actually wasn’t that bad, although my hair is raven, darling, not black.” He said matter-of-factly, a smirk playing on his lips. Alec frowned and was about to ask what exactly the difference was, when he heard Izzy calling him and telling him to get back to work – His hour was up.

“Um, I have to go, bye...” Alec said awkwardly. He turned to leave, but the man behind him caught his sleeve. Alec turned to face him again, his notebook sandwiched between his arm and side.

“Call me?” He asked with a wink as he pressed a piece of paper into his palm. Alec looked down at it. All that was written – Or rather scrawled – on the paper was a mobile number, and the name ‘Magnus Bane’ below it. Alec nodded, just wanting to get away as quickly as possible, the stubborn blush refusing to leave his cheeks.

The rest of the evening consisted of the same old stuff – Drunks, bad dancing and more drunks. Oh, and of course trying his best to avoid eye contact with one certain colourful man.


	2. Of Portraits and of Magnus

Three days after the incident, his writers block was still refusing to give him a break.

He just needed to write _something,_ it didn’t have to be his greatest masterpiece. He had his forehead on the desk, trying to think, but his thoughts kept wandering back to that colourful man and his ‘raven’ hair. Since it was clear that his mind wasn’t going to leave the subject of ‘Magnus Bane’ alone, he got out his notebook from the incident, and started to write.

                   _‘He walks with a casual grace, like a busy housecat, swiftly avoiding any obstacles in his way. His voice is rich and deep, like...”_

He thought for a moment.

                    _‘...like smooth dark chocolate, leaving you wanting more. He’s cute and sexy at the same time, and-‘_

Stop it Alec, this is getting weird. He’d never spoken so highly of the people he observed – He was a little worried he’d become like one of the sappy girls in novels with love triangles, all ‘love at first sight’ and ‘dark dreamy princes’. His phone snapped him out of his thoughts. He checked the caller ID; Isabelle.

“Hey.” He said as he pressed accept.

“Alec, thank god you picked up! I know you’re not meant to be working tonight and you hate the crowds at the club and all, but that cute guy you were eyeing up is here!” Alec almost spat out the soda he was drinking.

“Iz! I was NOT eyeing him up!” Alec argued, his face turning rosy slowly.

“Oh, come on Alec. You start looking at a guy with good fashion sense after all these years of me trying to hook you up with someone boring? Of course I’m going to notice. Listen, I’m happy for you! You finally know now that your cold heart can lust-“

“Oh Jesus Chri-”

“Okay, okay,” She laughed, “But he even asked if you were working tonight. He likes you, and I saw him give you his number though – Don’t throw this chance away, he’s actually cute.” She said sternly, and hung up before Alec could protest.

He fished around in his pocket and took out the small piece of paper with the number scrawled on it. He had not called Magnus yet – What would he say? He had exactly zero experience with things like this in real life. In his stories, he could make romance bloom in the most awkward of situations – But, real life didn’t work like fiction.

“Magnus Bane...” He mumbled to himself.

No. He wouldn’t go. He absolutely would not, under any circumstances, go to the club tonight.

* * *

 

Alec frowned as he sat at the bar, sipping his orange juice and tapping his fingers on the wood of the bar nervously. When he’d walked in, Isabelle had simply offered a smug smile and a look that said ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.’

“Magnus alert,” Izzy said, pointing to an approaching figure across the room. Alec was about to move away, to chicken out, when Izzy pushed down on his shoulders and started to speak again.

“Be cool. Don’t mess it up – and probably best to leave the wizard speak for now.” She said, giving him a quick wink before going back to charming customers into buying more expensive drinks. Alec leaned over the bar, about to call her back when he heard a voice besides him.

“Hey.” Magnus spoke, and Alec nearly fell off the barstool when he jumped.

“Jesus, um, hi.” He mumbled awkwardly, shock lacing his voice. Magnus was laughing now, and Alec felt like that laugh could melt him if he let it, despite only vaguely hearing it over the loud music. Alec quickly spoke up, “Listen, about the writing thing, I swear it’s just what I do to practice, I’m not a stalker or-“ He was silenced when the other leaned down to his bag and took out a long rectangular shape – A sketch pad.

“Go on, look.” Magnus said as he slid the pad towards Alec and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. Alec looked over at him for a moment, and he was just sitting there, grinning at him. He flicked the pad open to the first page.

On the first page was a detailed sketch of a woman reading a book on a park bench, on the next page was a small boy sitting on a pier, his toes just touching the water. The drawings couldn’t really be called sketches, Alec decided as he looked at a few more portraits. They were so detailed, and most were fully shaded, giving them an almost 3D effect. Magnus started to talk as Alec flipped through the portraits.

“I like to people watch too. To practice, of course. The only difference is that you write and I draw. So, will you stop trying to apologise now?” Magnus asked with a chuckle, and just as he finished, Alec flipped the page – and saw himself, printed across the paper in graphite.

His eyes widened as he stared at the portrait. He was slouched over on a barstool, notebook in his lap, his pen in hand. It was definitely the more detailed of the drawings. He looked focused, and... Beautiful. Alec had never used that word to describe himself, but in this picture it was the _only_ word to describe it.

He was a black and white shaded portrait, except for his eyes, which were shaded a dark blue. Every detail looked like it must have taken an hour on it’s own to draw – The lone strands of his hair that stuck up, the fibres of his sweater, old creases in his jeans.

“It’s beautiful...” He mumbled, touching the paper with his fingertips.

“No, it’s you that’s beautiful. I couldn’t find the right colour for those gorgeous blue eyes of yours...” Magnus purred, smirking at Alec.  Alec was a little stuck for what to say for a moment, before he smirked and looked up at Magnus.

“It’s good. But –“He paused, trying not to laugh. “My eyes are sapphire, not blue, _darling_.” He teased.

The two of them talked all night, about this and that. Their families, their jobs, their hobbies... Just normal things. Magnus would try to flirt, and Alec would always clam up and start stuttering. He felt a little pathetic, what with his complete lack of experience in the real life romance field, and Magnus’ array of experiences in it. But, by the end of the night he’d become a little less nervous around Magnus Bane, and they were both laughing. However, he still felt his heart jump a little whenever they made eye contact.

“Call me this time – Okay, sweetheart?” Magnus asked, winking at Alec as he pulled on his coat. Alec smiled a little.

“I will.” He said, even though he still had no idea what he would say. ‘Hey, this is the stuttering idiot from the bar.’ And then where would that go?

When he got home, it was after midnight. He fell into bed, still with that stupid smile on his face. Someone had called him beautiful. Moreover, someone beautiful, interesting and funny had called him beautiful. He fell asleep that night with a stupid smile on his face, and dreamed of portraits and of Magnus.

* * *

 

It was one in the afternoon, and Alec was still staring at his phone, the piece of paper with the number of a certain sparkly man clenched tightly in his other hand. Each and every time he plucked up the courage to push in the numbers, he just ended up deleting them from the screen again. What would he say? What would Magnus say? How was the whole ‘Call me’ thing supposed to work exactly?

The worst thing was, that he’d been so sure that he had known how it worked up until the moment he was actually faced with the order of doing so. He’d read about the ‘Call me’ line many times in books, even wrote about it once or twice. It seemed so easy to make his characters idly chat on the phone, make them joke and be witty and sarcastic – Real life was a different matter. In real life, you can’t think for a few minutes every time you want to speak a sentence, like you would when writing a sentence. Everything was just so quick, and got too awkward if one person thought for too long.

When the phone in his hand rang and snapped him out of his thoughts, Alec honestly thought he would have a heart attack. He checked the caller ID; Luke, his ‘manager’. Basically, the guy who finds magazines and collections for Alec to write for and makes sure everything’s in to the editors on time – The latter was his main job.

“Hey Luke.” Alec answered casually, if not still a little shaken.

“Hi, Alec!” Luke answered cheerfully. Cheerful. Good. Alec hadn’t missed a deadline, then. “Are you busy right now?” He asked.

“Uh...” Alec looked over at the blank sheet of paper on his desk. “No. Not really.” He answered.

“Great, because I need you to come by the office before you get too engrossed in your next story for the magazine. I have a surprise for you.” He said. Engrossed. Ha.

“Alright,” Alec sighed, shrugging on a coat and pair of boots, the phone sandwiched against his ear and shoulder. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.” He promised, and then hung up.

The subway was crowded, and Alec’s headphones weren’t doing much to silence the noise of chattering people. He was a very happy man when it was his stop, and he was finally free of the mass of bodies. Winter in New York was not Alec’s favourite time and place. God damn tourists.

He arrived at the office a few minutes before he said he would be, and Luke as always greeted him with what he called a ‘friendly handshake’ – Alec thought of it as more of a ‘Hey, you’re kind of cool but I’m keeping my relationship with you professional in public because otherwise I’ll be seen as unprofessional handshake’.

Luke talked as they walked through the halls, leading Alec to where his surprise was waiting.

“So, you know we’ve been trying to get you an illustrator for your short stories? Well, this guy just pops up this morning asking if we have any work for an illustrator. Since you’re pretty much the only good writer we have without one, you get him. He’s pretty good, from what I hear.” Luke explained, Alec nodding absent mindedly as they walked. He caught the basics. The word illustrator was enough.

“Guess it’s not really a surprise anymore.” Luke chuckled as he opened the door to one of the small offices.

Alec froze, looking over at the man sitting on the edge of the desk with wide eyes.

Magnus Bane stared back at him with feline eyes – Also wide with shock.

There was a long, awkward silence.

“Do... You two know each other?” Asked Luke from behind Alec.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hello everyone! ... I am so sorry this is so late ;-; I do unfortunately have quite a busy life that doesn't really allow much time for fanfiction (plus I'm the master of procrastination) so this is probably gonna be a really slowburning thing, maybe a chapter a month at a good time with no exams?  
**

**I do not own the Mortal Instruments series or any of the characters.**

"So... You've got nothing?" Magnus asked.

"Nothing but the foggy depths of my desolate mind." Alec confirmed. Alec was sat down at his desk, rubbing his temples lightly. He looked back at Magnus, who had made himself quite at home on his couch. Luke had of course suggested that the two came back here to work rather than sorting him out with an office of his own in the agency building. He guessed he wasn't important enough for that yet. Maybe it was only non-fiction authors that were important enough for that. The fact that Magnus had made it very clear that they knew each other may have also had an impact on Luke's choice to hold back on giving him his own office space just yet.

"What do you want me to draw then?" Magnus asked as he frowned at Alec. Alec sighed.

"I don't have- I don't really-"Another sigh. "Why don't you come back tomorrow? Maybe I'll have something for you to draw by then..." He mumbled as he turned back to his desk, chewing on the lid of his pen. Magnus pouted slightly and walked over to Alec. He leaned down, his fingers gripping the back of Alec's desk chair.

"You didn't call me again..." Magnus purred into Alec's ear, his coloured hair brushing against the pale skin of Alec's neck and sending shivers down his spine. Alec tensed up a bit, not daring to look at the other in case he was met with an extreme close up of the other's irresistible face.

"I... Huh..?" He mumbled, looking at Magnus out of the corner of his eyes. Magnus smiled a little and stood up again. At the loss of presence behind him, Alec looked up at the other, his face burning.

"Nothing. But, you know, if you don't want me to try and make you fall in love with me, say so now. Because you, Alexander Lightwood, are the most beautiful person I've ever met and I'm not going to stop unless you tell me to." Magnus informed bluntly, smirking that feline smirk of his. Alec decided on a metaphor for his face right now; It felt like lava, and he was pretty sure it looked like lava too. A long silence stretched through the small room, in which Magnus stared into Alec's eyes and Alec stared right back.

Magnus smiled, clearly taking Alec's shocked silence as consent for him to carry on with his courting.

"Good," Magnus said with a grin. "I'll see you tomorrow, Alexander."

* * *

Magnus tapped lightly on the door. When no reply came, he tried the door handle – Unlocked, as it had been when Magnus had left the previous day.

Magnus frowned, worry creasing his brow. Surely Alec knew to lock his doors at night? Unless someone else had unlocked it since. Magnus opened the heavy door quickly, walking into Alec's study. He knew his worry was pretty irrational, but he'd still been expecting to walk in on some sort of murder scene, or find a ransom note on Alec's old oak desk. Maybe a thief, trying to steal what were, in Magnus' mind, works of brilliance created by the most stunning man in the United States?

But, all he found was Alec, cheek pressed against the wood of his desk, fast asleep. Magnus couldn't help but smile. Alec was snoring ever so quietly, and every so often he would mumble incoherently. His hair was splayed across his desk messily, like the feathers of a raven. He was still wearing what he had been the previous night, the blue shirt that matched his eyes and a pair of black jeans. He must have been cold, after all, it had snowed overnight (A fact that Magnus was very, very excited about).

Magnus found himself wondering how he'd stumbled across someone like Alec. He'd been looking for someone to help him get over Will, sure, but Alec was something, or someone, else entirely. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he had that stubborn kind of awkwardness that Magnus had always seemed to be drawn to.

There were scrunched up pieces of paper littered everywhere around the room and Alec was still holding his pen loosely. Looking at the state of the room and the emptiness of the piece of paper that Alec was half using for a pillow, it was clear that Alec had not been struck down with a lightning bolt of inspiration last night.

Magnus took a quilt from the back of the sofa he'd been laying on the previous night, and draped it over Alec's shoulders gently. Then, he acted on Alec's statement from the previous day and 'made himself at home', assuming it still applied. He took his shoes off and wandered into the kitchen, making two cups of strong coffee. Then he walked back into Alec's office and put the mugs down on the coffee table.

Magnus leaned forwards and tapped Alec's shoulder gently, not wanting to scare him.

"Hey.." He whispered, at which Alec jumped.

"What?" He mumbled quickly, before he'd opened his eyes. When those icy blue eyes did open, he blinked a few times. "Oh. Hi. Yeah, I-"

"Fell asleep at your desk? A little cliché, don't you think?" Magnus teased, a sly smile on his face. Alec was just too adorable right now, no matter how much he tried to hide it. Alec didn't answer for a while and simply looked up at Magnus from his slouched over position at his desk with sleepy eyes. A small blush crept onto his pale cheeks.

"... Is that coffee I smell?" Alec said at last.

* * *

When Alec had deemed himself sufficiently fuelled with coffee and burned toast, the two sat back down in Alec's office.

"Judging from the ball pit of scrunched up papers, I'd say you're in an 'Argh! I have so many ideas but none of them work!' Sort of situation?" Magnus questioned. Alec laughed at the suggestion, rubbing at the shadows under his eyes.

"I wish. Take a look." Alec said, picking up a piece of nearly decimated paper from the floor and chucking it at Magnus, who caught it quickly. With a questioning stare in Alec's direction, Magnus slowly started unravelling the crumpled up mess of paper, a little nervous to see what was on this ominous, crumpled paper.

"Blank?" Magnus exclaimed, his mouth hanging open, his eyes wide as he looked down at the frighteningly white paper.

"Blank." Alec repeated, sounding tired and defeated. "It gets to the point sometimes where you just have to get a new piece of paper, because it gets depressing, you know? Just staring at the exact same piece of paper for what feels like hours..." Alec mumbled, then sighed and leaned back in his chair. Magnus did know. It was the same for him and a blank canvas, but canvases were more expensive to change every hour or so.

"Ok, you're seriously depressing me." Magnus said bluntly and got up, going to fetch his stylish coat. Alec jumped up from his chair and watched him with wide eyes, frightened that he'd actually upset Magnus. What had he done to make him leave? More so, why was he so upset about the fact that he was leaving?

"Magnus, I-" Alec started, but he was silenced when Magnus threw his coat at him. Alec blinked, pulling it away from his flustered looking face to stare at Magnus.

"If an idea won't come to you, we'll have to go to the idea." He said as he started pulling on his black trench coat and boots. Alec smiled a little and pulled on his worn out green parker, then added a pair of black woollen mittens and a scarf to the equation. Magnus raised an eyebrow. "Remind me to take you clothes shopping. Soon." He said. Alec rolled his eyes, and started following Magnus out of the house, closing the door behind him.

"Whoa... I didn't realise it was snowing." Alec said, looking around at the unusually white surroundings of the city. He knew it would be cold, but not this cold. It wasn't just a layer of snow either; it was a thick covering that seemed to envelope everything. Alec was simply glad that he'd worn his booths rather than his trainers.

"Of course you didn't. You were too caught up in your little vampire den, all those curtains closed." Magnus joked, raising an eyebrow at Alec, who, even if he wouldn't admit it, was trying to look cool. Trying not to look like the slightly nerdy, loner author that he was, like Isabelle had advised.

Alec rolled his eyes, "Where are we even going?" He asked. Magnus was silent, a weird grin on his face. Alec frowned at the other's back, walking silently behind him. Eventually, Magnus stepped back so that Alec could see past him.

"The park?" Alec questioned, one eyebrow raised. "I'm pretty sure I've drawn just about every idea I can from-"

"Shh-shh! Just follow me." Magnus scolded as they walked through the park. Alec pulled his dark red scarf tighter around his neck. God, it was cold.

Magnus lead him down the frosty path, past snow covered trees and bushes with branches made of icicles, past frozen puddles and cold benches that nobody would sit on today. They walked for a while, perhaps a mile, with short conversations passing to and fro between them as they went. Alec, although curious, was enjoying the quiet. The two came to the edge of the park, and the beginning of a large wooded area, which had to be the only sight of green for miles. "Magnus, where are we going?" Alec tried asking again, as Magnus started to walk down a narrow path through the trees. No answer. Alec hesitated, before following after Magnus.

Then, Alec saw where they were going. There was a small clearing ahead, covered in pure, crisp white. When he emerged into the clearing, he found himself standing in front of a frozen lake. He could see himself in the ice, which seemed to glisten in the early morning sun, making everything in the clearing seem.. Magical. The sounds of the city seemed to be blocked out by the trees that surrounded them and everything was quiet, apart from the occasional scatter of an animal through the bushes.

"Welcome to my secret garden, Alexander." Magnus said in a low, smooth voice. Alec looked up at him, caught in those stunning eyes for a moment. Were they really green? There were flecks of... Something in them. Yellow? No. Gold.

Magnus grinned down at him. "Ever been ice-skating before?" He asked.

"... Ice skating? Where did that come from?" Alec asked, eyebrows furrowing. Magnus' smile grew as he grabbed hold of Alec's gloved hand and pulled him onto the smooth yet deceptively slippery ice. "A-Are you out of your mind!?" Alec yelled, cringing as his feet stomped down onto the ice. He waited for a second, expecting to be plunged into the icy waters below – But he wasn't. Alec opened his eyes and looked up at Magnus, who was still holding onto his hands reassuringly. His expression was soft, gentle encouraging. No more words were spoken as Magnus slid further onto the ice, Alec stumbling after him.

Alec held on tightly to Magnus' hands as he tried his best to slide rather than stumble. His right foot slipped, and Alec gasped as he started to fall, pulling Magnus down with him. They landed with an 'oof', Magnus quickly rolling off of Alec. Alec blushed as Magnus laughed at him, but soon Alec was laughing too, and their laughs formed a chorus of sweet sounds that didn't stop until they'd managed to get back up again – Which took more than a few attempts.

The two slipped and slid for awhile, until Magnus asked, "Inspired yet?". Alec smiled and nodded, letting Magnus guide him away from the beautiful ice.

Alec had the idea that he would let go of Magnus' hand once they got off the ice. But as they walked away from the lake and through the trees, Alec found himself reluctant to let go. So, with rosy cheeks, Alec held his hand all the way home.

**Note: I know that finding somewhere like that in NYC is very unlikely, but gimme a little artistic licence xD I've never been to NYC though, so maybe there is somewhere like that..? I don't know, I'm just a silly British person xD**


	4. Chapter 4

**[A/N] Finally! After, like, two months... I'm sorry about that, but this chapter is a little longer to make up for it c: I wanted to get this up as soon as possible for you guys so it hasn't really been properly edited, so sorry is the writing here isn't as good as in previous chapters xD**

**Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instruments series or any of the characters.**

After that, the days seemed to pass by in a whirr. Alec was allowed to take some time away from the chaos of the bar to write – It was a long process, seeing as Alec was both a writer and an editor combined.

That was his fault. He’d come in to Luke’s office with the first piece he’d ever written on the job, and being an eager twenty year old who was fresh out of college, he’s told Luke that he’d checked and edited it already himself. It was true, he always edited his stories himself when he did it for a hobby. Luke had been so pleased that he’d deemed Alec capable of editing all by himself. That had set him up for a life of double the work and stress.

By now, Alec only had two weeks left. It was a push, that was for sure – Fifteen thousand wordsof entertaining, interesting and pristine clean content in two weeks? Plus now he had to finish it early so Magnus could draw something. Needless to say, through the next few days Alec wasn’t very talkative. Magnus, the whole time, stayed in his new favourite spot - laid on the fake leather couch in Alec’s messy study – reading some weird looking fashion magazine. Magnus didn’t have to be there at all, but something told Alec that he knew that.

“Lunch break.” Alec announced, stretching his arms over his head as he finally looked away from the bright screen of his computer, his pupils contracting. He swore sometimes that he heard the clicking of keys even after he’s moved his fingers from the keyboard. The biggest perk of having Magnus at his house everyday was that he had someone to talk to during lunch. Or someone there to remind him to actually have lunch.

Alec quite often seemed to let himself go when he was writing a piece. He’d forget whole meals, pull all nighters until he physically could not stay awake and not wash just because he was so absorbed in that constant tapping of the keys, the images and words rushing through his mind, in the other world he managed to transport himself to every time he started a story. But now there was someone in his house who came by most days, so he had to prepare meals and wash his hair – Isabelle had begun calling Magnus “The Miracle Worker” because of this.

“Awesome.” Magnus said with a yawn. Had he been sleeping? Alec wasn’t sure whether to think that was adorable or just plain sexy. He stood up just after Alec did and stretched, his t-shirt riding up just a little, so that Alec could see a strip of caramel skin... He ripped his eyes away , walking into the kitchen and telling himself he shouldn’t feel like a pervert. After all, for Alec, that was the most sexual thing he’d seen since his last boyfriend about six years ago.

The two talked while Alec cooked up some pasta and pre-made sauce. Yet another thing that made Magnus seem like the perfect man to Alec – Despite his high fashion expectations, he’d eat anything. He’d even burned the toast a few days ago and Magnus had scoffed it down like it was the first thing he’d eaten in months.  In summary, Magnus ate a lot of food, no matter what it was. Alec wondered how he stayed so perfectly thin.

“So when did you first start drawing?” Alec asked as he stirred the pasta.

“I’ve always been drawing. But I suppose I actually started getting good at it at about fourteen. To be honest though, by that point my only real hobbies were drawing and applying perfect eyeliner.” He explained. Alec laughed.

“When did you start writing, cupcake?” He asked.

“Cupcake?” Alec retorted, raising an eyebrow and avoiding the question.

“Just trying it out. So?” He asked again.

Don’t do it. Don’t, Alec.

“I wrote fanfiction.” Alec blurted out. There was a silence in the room.

That’s it, Alec thought, waiting for the laugh. No longer are you the cool, vaguely attractive and reserved young man Magnus thought you were. No, now you are a creepy, obsessive fanboy. Why couldn’t he have just told him something normal, like he’d like creative writing in English?

“What’s fanfiction?” Magnus asked. Oh god, Alec could have cried in relief-

“Oh! Isn’t it that thing where you write stories about anime characters having weird sex?” Magnus hat cut straight through Alec’s relief with that. Alec almost choked on his water.

“No—Well, sometimes, but I was never good at writing lemons and I was more into book fanfiction really.” Alec said without really thinking. There was awkward eye contact and silence, until Magnus arched an eyebrow, presumably at the word ‘lemon’. Alec suddenly grew very interested in the pasta on the stove.

“I didn’t write porn.” Alec assured firmly, working whole heartedly on the penne.

“One day, I’m gonna get you to read me some of your dirty fanfiction.” Magnus teased out of the blue. Alec laughed a little at that.

They soon sat down with their steaming hot bowls of pasta and tomato sauce, which had by then been carefully heated.

“So, which books do you like?” Magnus asked, holding a spoonful of pasta and looking at Alec as if they were on a date in a really fancy restaurant and not in Alec’s small, messy kitchen. Alec suppressed the laughter threatening to spill.

“Well, works of complete fiction is what gets me. I guess my favourite would have to be the Harry Potter-“ Alec started, but was cut off by Magnus’ gasp.

“I knew it!” Magnus cried, making Alec jump a little. The excitement in Magnus’ eyes was infectious, despite the fact that Alec had no idea what was going on. “You, Alexander Lightwood, are a geeky fanboy.” Magnus claimed, looking entirely pleased with himself.

“I... Guess I am.” Alec agreed, and soon both of them were laughing like idiots. Well, at least Alec didn’t have to worry about Magnus being geek-o-phobic – In fact, Magnus had seemed delighted at Alec’s slight geekyness. And it was only slight. Alec was nowhere near the fully blown D&D addict. He just liked Harry Potter (who didn’t?) and stories involving magic, and the internet.

All Alec had to worry about now, was how to avoid Magnus coming into contact with any of his, as he put it, dirty fanfiction.

 

* * *

 

 

Magnus and Alec had decided that if Alec was writing, they’d meet at Alec’s house, and if Magnus was drawing they’d meet at Magnus’... Apartment.

So, here Alec was, sitting on a plush pink sofa eating pot noodles for breakfast. Magnus’ apartment was very stylish. The colours seemed to be thrown together on the walls and furniture, yet they seemed to blend into and compliment each other perfectly. There were paintings hung up on the wall, most of them Alec could tell were painted by Magus himself, and fluffy carpets on the floors. It was fitting of an artist, Alec thought.

Alec had handed over the completed draft to Magnus that morning. It was one of his better pieces, despite the fact that it was pretty rushed.

The story was about an ice princess and a fire prince. No forbidden, star-crossed love or any crap like that – They were just two teenagers, dating normally, with the addition of kings and queens, magic and kingdoms and all the other jazz that generally came packaged with any of Alec’s work. It was a comedy, really. A rom-com. The two had gone ice skating, but when the princess leaned up to kiss the prince, he went so red that he literally caught fire and melted the ice.

Magnus loved it.

“The prince reminds me of you, what with your awkward adorableness.” Magnus had swooned.

Alec had to go to work at seven, so their very short and totally not flirty meeting about what the pictures would look like was ended.

“Drop by tomorrow, I’ll have the first of three done.” Magnus said, already too engrossed in his work to even toss Alec a wink as he left for the bar, clad in an armour of  jackets and warm, woolly gloves.

 

* * *

 

 

Alec was certainly suited up for the snow when he arrived at Magnus’ apartment the next morning. He had a thick scarf around his pale neck and a pair of mittens on his hands. Magnus gasped as Alec stepped through the entryway.

“Alec, you look like a hobo!” He exclaimed as he looked at his clothes. It was true they weren’t in the best shape, but...

“Thanks Magnus. They only have a few holes, and they’re warm-“ Alec tried to convince him that even if he looked like a homeless person, at least he was warm, which, as far as Alec was concerned, was enough to set him aside from the homeless of New York. Magnus only shook his head..He walked with a surprising amount of sass over to a calendar on the wall.

“This week, Saturday, you’re coming shopping with me. Plans? Cancel them, this is an emergency.” He demanded as he scribbled a note on the date. Alec laughed.

“So, is that a date?” Alec asked, surprising himself with his burst of boldness. Magnus stared at him in disbelief for a moment before a grin spread across his face.

“You bet, blue eyes.” Magnus said, clearly ecstatic that Alec had suggested such a thing. Alec was certainly starting to like Magnus more and more. Was this what falling for someone felt like..?

Either way, first date with Magnus Bane. Score.

 

* * *

 

 

Later on Magnus showed him the first of three drawings.

“Ta-da!” Magnus had said as he handed over the sketchbook. There it was. It was probably the most beautiful of Magnus’ creations, that Alec had seen.

“You can’t put this in.” Alec said, his voice full of panic. Magnus looked hurt, and Alec absolutely hated it.

“Alec, I know it’s a prince and a prince, but nobody will care. I even made one of them look like a girl-“ Magnus was cut off by Alec’s yell.

“You can’t put it in!” Alec shouted. Magnus flinched, which Alec thought was weird. Magnus was hardly ever shocked.

Alec put the sketchbook down and covered his face with his shaking hands and turned his back to Magnus, trying to calm himself down. Everything was quiet for a moment, even Chairman Meow, who rarely shut up, simply watched.

“It’s because it’s us, isn’t it?” Magnus asked quietly. Alec looked down at the sketchpad and nodded. There they were, perfectly mapped on paper, down to the strands of their hair. Alec was stumbling on the ice as Magnus led them to the centre, just like he had done that day a week ago. Everything about that drawing screamed magic, and Alec loved it, a lot.

Magnus sighed. “And you’re still in the closet, aren’t you?” Magnus asked. His voice... God, it was so gentle, soft as silk. Alec simply nodded again. He was, and his parents read every story of his that was published, sometimes just to criticize his life choices.

Before he knew it, Magnus’ arms were wrapped around his waist, his chin on the top of his head. It wasn’t like Alec was in dire emotional need of a hug, but he appreciated it anyway.

“I’ll redo it.” Magnus offered simply.

“Thank you...” Alec replied, his own arms going around Magnus a little hesitantly.

Silence. Then, Magnus chuckled. “Alexander, geeky closeted fanboy and adorable closeted homosexual. I’d like to know just how many closets one man can hide in at once.” He said.

“Well, there’s the fact that I’m a closeted serial killer, but my sister told me not to tell you about that one.” Alec joked. They both laughed. 


End file.
